


Exile of the Heart

by summoner_yuna_of_besaid



Series: Best Destinies [6]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, M/M, Mudd's Women, Multi, What Are Little Girls Made Of?, hopeful, slow building romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2012-11-08
Packaged: 2017-11-18 05:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summoner_yuna_of_besaid/pseuds/summoner_yuna_of_besaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone thinks what they will of James T. Kirk; that he's a womanizer, a Casanova.  They don't see the miles deep loneliness he keeps hidden, the desire he feels for two men he can't have.  But finally James Kirk has had enough.  He's going after the ones he wants, whatever the cost.</p><p>But how can he do it when Bones is still haunted by Jocelyn's memory, and Spock is completely sure Kirk and Leonard belong together without him?</p><p>Set after "Mudd's Women" and "What Are Little Girls Made Of?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exile of the Heart

Captain Kirk sat in his room at his desk chair, contemplating subjects he rarely let himself dwell over: things like love and romance; sex in ways more passionate and personal than he usually indulged. They were not topics he liked to think of often. As Captain of a starship, he could not enjoy in these things, but for the rare times he had shore leave or a guest aboard who would indulge him.

But after the events of the past few weeks, he found there was nothing else he could think of. Love… sex… devotion both emotional and physical. No matter where he turned he was reminded of these things, they were brought back to the forefront of his mind.

First, there was the aftermath of the transporter malfunction which had split him into pieces, and led to his knowledge of Bones feelings for him; and consequently, Spock found out the same of him. Spock had run, and never looked back. Kirk couldn’t feel too angry at him for it, for he’d run as well. Instead of telling Bones he knew the truth, he’d retreated into himself, pitying and complaining about his luck.

The problem was simple: Captain of a starship, bound to duty and service, in love with two of his highest ranking officers and closest friends. One, a Vulcan, bound by culture and ritual to keep his emotions tightly wrapped and in check; the other, a curmudgeon-y doctor still feeling the ache of having been burned. 

He knew for certain he had feelings for Bones, and Bones for him. He knew Spock knew this, and that Spock also knew Kirk loved him. All this gained from a mind meld weeks ago, after which Spock had all but raced from the room. The memory tore Kirk’s heart to pieces.

In the weeks following, the rifts between himself and his closest officers only grew deeper, and the problems behind them grew worse. It would all explode at some point, and it began to do so with the arrival of Mudd and his ‘women’.

It was no secret that Captain Kirk enjoyed sex; the real secret was that he hardly enjoyed it as much as everyone thought. To his crew, it seemed the Casanova had a lover at every port, and he did. That didn’t mean he always wanted one, or enjoyed being with them. But what choice did he have? The only intimacy he could ever enjoy was that between strangers not stationed on his ship, and they came few and far between. He couldn’t afford to be picky, so every chance he got, he flirted and flounced and brought strangers to bed. Sometimes it was worth it; sometimes he woke up with a woman on his arm whose name he couldn’t remember and felt a deep, burning shame choking him.

But the alternative was a bitter loneliness he couldn’t swallow, so he continued his shallow dalliances and put aside his true desires. Then came Mudd and his women.

Afterwards, he felt slightly better about the whole thing, but in the moment, Kirk had felt like his control was slipping. He’d always managed to separate his sex life from his work, and that was important to him. Desiring the victims/accomplices/whoever they turned out to be, in the middle of an investigation on his ship was beyond irresponsible. A furious anger grew in him the longer he stayed near them, the more he let his eyes danced over their forms and could not resist wanting them.

He also happened to notice Bones noticing them; the widening of his pupils, the slight open gape of his mouth, the sweat building on his brow. He wanted, and Kirk had never seen him want so. Worse than watching the women was watching Bones feel desire, and it was that sight that fueled his dreams those nights. Bitter longing and anger built even more, until it felt he’d burst with it.

Spock was completely unaffected, which only made Kirk angrier as it confirmed what he’d always felt; Spock did not desire, did not want and perhaps did not love, or if he did, it was not sexual in nature. Kirk was no stranger to asexuality, he knew of it and knew of people who identified that way, but he could not. Sex was a need for him, something he could not live without, something he didn’t just desire but had to have to function. Sometimes he felt it was a weakness, but there were days when a good long night of lovemaking could rejuvenate him and he felt so strong he could never imagine not doing it. 

Knowing Spock could never desire him and never would, realizing that he would never be able to see those eyes dilate, that mouth bruised and swollen from kissing… that hurt more than a knife to the gut. The whole mission with Mudd was miserable and aggravating from all the terrible conflicting thoughts it brought up in him.

But then came Roger Korby, Christine’s tragedy, and a few new realizations which gave the Captain hope again. In the midst of it, Kirk wouldn’t have thought his trial with the androids would bring any helpful realizations. It was only after, sprawled across his bed beaten and exhausted, avoiding Bones like the plague because he simply couldn’t deal with him then, that Kirk looked back over the mission and came to a few conclusions.

The androids, Ruk and Andrea and Korby, they had been so… inhumane. They had felt emotions, perhaps, or some simile of them, but they had been cold, logical in a way Spock could never have been. Spock had expressed worry for him, had come to his rescue, had spoken to him afterwards and actually been hurt by his choice of insult (something which choked him with guilt, and he hoped Spock forgave him and knew he didn’t mean it). He did feel. 

So he did not feel as humans did; so he was not expressive and open. Spock was not an android. Perhaps he was asexual, perhaps not, maybe he felt love, maybe not. But he was alive, and that meant the possibility was there. So long as Spock was not actually a computer as Bones always insisted, there was a chance. In fact, Kirk knew in his hearts of hearts he could give up the idea of ever having sex with Spock, if only he could hold him, love him, be with him… it was impossibly emotional but it was true.

But of course, this brought him back to that moment, to Spock running away, and Kirk felt his heart constrict in his chest. Was there really a chance? Or was he being selfish? He knew Bones loved him and was probably aching with the knowledge. They hadn’t spoken outside of duty for weeks, and Kirk had the means to change that. He could change everything: tell Bones the truth of his own feelings, explore what it meant for them, finally have someone to hold who wasn’t an ephemeral stranger to disappear the next morning.

Yet he couldn’t. The usual complaints rose up again: He was Captain. He couldn’t allow himself to be comprised, couldn’t be distracted from his duty, couldn’t become involved with his officers… and yet those felt like excuses. The real answers were hidden underneath, words he dared not say. He couldn’t just have Bones. He was a selfish bastard, and he wanted both of them.

In that moment, sitting at his desk, he thought just maybe that he could have both of them, if he played his cards right. If he explored this, if he figured out how to move ahead with it in a way that wouldn’t scare either off, that would allow him to test the waters and see how it could go… maybe he could. Maybe they could all be together, captaincy be damned. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Leonard McCoy had never gone so long without talking to his best friend.

It hurt in a way nothing else could; an aching bruise over his heart that no medicine or alcohol could truly stave. Yes, it was for the best that they remain separate long enough for the doctor to get his foolish notions of desire out of his head, but the truth was, Bones was beginning to think no amount of time could quench that fire.

It had been weeks, weeks of distance and mental condemnation on Bones’ part, and nothing had changed. His nights were still fraught with unquenched thirst and damned detailed dreams, dreams of long pale fingers playing him like a lute, of bright smiling lips descending upon his until no other thoughts could be had… and he’d wake up feeling like a teenager all over again, cursing his own damn foolishness. He was too old to feel like this.

But time didn’t make it any better. He avoided the bridge, avoided the mess, hardly ever lifted his head up from his work. Most days Chapel had to boot him out just to get him to sleep. Sleep was the last thing he wanted, because just as soon as he thought he’d worked himself to exhaustion enough to forget his unrealizable desires, they’d be right there in the cover of night to whisk him off again. Then he’d have to start over forgetting, trying to ignore the pangs that struck him whenever he happened to catch sight of either man.

Time wore on and nothing changed. Two months passed and it seemed as if the world had grown duller, lost color, since he’d stopped seeing Kirk and Spock around all day. Without Kirk’s unrepentant joking, without Spock’s aggravating statements, without all the life they put into his day, he just felt… empty. And he still wanted them.

What could he do? How could he convince his foolish body to let go and move on? He thought he’d had enough with Jocelyn and that whole tragedy, but apparently he was a sucker for disasters. Him! With Spock and Kirk! Oh no, he would ruin that whole thing. They’d get their act together eventually, but not with him, no… not with him.

He was thinking over all of this one day in his office when he suddenly realized he wasn’t alone, and he hadn’t heard anyone come in. He jumped at the sight of Spock in front of his desk, and gave a few curses when his knees hit the underside.

“Dammit Spock don’t you know how to knock?” He complained, rubbing his knees. Spock did that head tilt, eyebrow lift he always did and dammit Bones was hard. He hadn’t been this easy since he was fifteen! What was wrong with him?

“I apologize doctor, but I did use the intercom three times without reply before deciding to enter.” Spock replied, all even and distant and completely emotionless. Just once, just once, Bones would love to hear some passion in that baritone, some genuine feeling, a huskiness or depth to that powerful voice… He crossed that line of thought out because it was not helping his libido.

“Yeah, yeah, fine, whaddya need?” He grunted, turning his eyes back down to the paperwork in front of him.

“I… I must admit that this is not a visit pertaining to official ship business.” The Vulcan almost sounded… nervous? The words and tone brought McCoy’s head back up, his eyes wide.

“Yeah?” He would’ve stood and moved around the desk, but that would be a bad idea at the moment. Worry clouded his mind. Was Spock in trouble? Was he hurt? “Something wrong with that Vulcan system of yours?”

The words seemed to darken Spock’s eyes with what Bones would’ve called emotion on anyone else, but on Spock was a shield of sorts, a mental distance. “I am not here for myself. I am here to speak for the Captain.”

“For Jim?” Now he was really curious… and concerned. “Is he alright?”

“Everything is fine, doctor.” Spock pursed his lips, seemingly about to sigh but of course would never allow himself to do that. “There is no reason for concern.”

“Then out with it, Spock!” Leonard quickly spat out, face reddening. “Don’t keep me on the edge of my seat!”

“I would do so, if you would cease your interruptions.” And there it was; that slight shift in tone and power that told Bones he’d done it – he’d gotten through a crack, a tiny crack in the shield, and touched something real. Sure it was anger, maybe even dislike or loathing. But it was real, and that was something. “It has come to my attention that the Captain has been… withholding information from you.” That had Bones eyebrows rising, almost like a Vulcan’s. “It is not my place to say… but in the interest of the Captain’s safety, I wished to inform you that it was so.”

“Uh huh.” Slightly confused, Bones paused before he spoke. “And what do you want me to do about it?”

“I believe speaking to the Captain would alleviate the situation.”

Bones almost smiled, and stifled a snort. Was Spock here to try and mend their friendship? Was he playing the concerned friend for Jim? Bones could hardly believe it; but it was Jim, and it was obvious Spock would do just about anything for him. The doctor felt his opinion of the man rising as he realized just how much it must’ve cost him to come there, to tell him these things, for no reason other than it would help Jim.

“Alright then, I’ll take that into consideration.” He nodded, feeling a little better than before, but in the back of his mind the idea of speaking to Jim worried him. Still, he wouldn’t tell Spock that.

The Vulcan nodded, said something that was a vaguely polite farewell, and left. Bones reclined in his seat, running a hand through his hair, watching as the stiff, irritated man turned and vanished from his sight.

It was childish and foolish, yes, but he couldn’t help himself. He pulled Spock’s pigtails every chance he got. The man was an ice cube, practically a computer, except Bones knew he wasn’t somewhere deep, deep down where his humanity was locked away. He couldn’t just let the man treat everyone like they were invisible, walk through the world as if it couldn’t touch him. He wasn’t a God, born perfect and perfectly logical! He was just as mortal, just as human, as everyone else, whether or not he wanted to admit it!

Bones thought all this to himself angrily, thought about it long and hard, and ignored the things hidden deep in his gut, in his chest. He pointedly did not remember certain things.

Like his divorce, those long months near the end, before they finally called it quits. Those months when Jocelyn, the love of his life, was a ghost in her own home, a wraith of a woman, not the person he married or remembered. Distant, cold, unfeeling, unresponsive to Leonard, to anything he did or said. Never angry, never emotional, never upset over him, just cold. Even when they finally made it official and the man couldn’t help but shed a few tears, he glanced through wet eyes to the dispassionate, businesslike visage of his ex-wife and wondered how it couldn’t hurt her, how she could sit there and feel nothing as his life fell apart at the seams?

He would think of Spock and curse his Vulcan heritage, and pointedly ignore every reminder of that exile from Jocelyn’s heart, and the feeling of being invisible that he could no longer tolerate or ignore.


End file.
